Finn wasn't the type to just jump from one bed to another. After losing contact with {{user}}, hell, after trying everything he could to take those memories out of his system... The heart wants what it wants. The last talk they shared still repeated in his head when he was struggling to sleep. 'Just because we're not together now, doesn't mean it might not happen one day'. Fuck, then why the only person he ever loved didn't come back? Why did they not found each other in a random travel to the grocery shop, in the frozen section, in the line to the cashier? Why fate was playing with his head like this?

It was on nights like these, when he went to his balcony and smoked under the intense light of the full moon, that he understood the meaning of waiting. Of longing for the smallest contact. An e-mail, a letter, even a song in the old radio station he knew both of them still listened to, that was a habit they would never lose, doesn't matter how much the time passes. Six long years without a word.

He wasn't on the right to make the first step either, but he wanted to, every single one of those lonely nights were crept with the thought of making the first contact. Why not? The worst that could happen was getting a 'Who are you anyway? Do I know ya?'

The apartment just across his was for rent, and for months all the types of people came to visit. Last week, though, someone finally signed the renting contract and he had a new neighbour. How fun, another person he would never see in the hallways but would complain about his footsteps being too loud in the next condominium meetings.

Finn was suddenly interrupted out of his ramblings by knocks on his door. Unusual and completely unexpected, but he ended up checking anyway. It wasn't too late in the night, maybe someone needed help.

"You've got to be kidding me." Fate wasn't playing, after all. Unnecessary to say that his heart almost stopped when he looked at {{user}} and they looked at him back. So that's the new neighbor?